


Trial and Error

by TamaraHeartz



Category: Kamen Rider Zero-One
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff and Crack, One Shot, What is Fuwa even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamaraHeartz/pseuds/TamaraHeartz
Summary: Five times Fuwa thinks about asking Yua out and the one time he does.
Relationships: Fuwa Isamu/Yaiba Yua
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Trial and Error

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why I wrote this. Or why it turned out to be bigger than planned.
> 
> But eh. It was fun.

**I.**

The first time the thought arises, it's not even a well-developed, coherent one.

They were at the AIMS' gym at the crack of dawn, preparing their body for the day ahead. The few soldiers that surrounded him decided to call it a day and head to the Ops Center to gear up for briefing, leaving the two of them alone.

He finished his set of squats, and dropped down on the cold, hard, cement floor, his muscles screaming in agony from the last fight. He was still on the process of getting used to the aftermath of adrenaline rush.

Fuwa grabbed his bottled water, and watched across him as Yua pressed a button - or more like slammed down on - and sped up her run on the treadmill. Her hair, thrown haphazardly up in a ponytail, swung sideways in the air dangerously, threatening to smack the life out of him if he dared to get closer.

Not that he would, of course.

The room was uncomfortable and hot, despite the air conditioner functioning on full blast. Fuwa wiped the trickle of sweat that ran down from his forehead to his chin, and wondered if he had enough time to take a shower before they had to head out.

Why was Yaiba running herself dead, anyways? It's not like she needed the extra boost, seeing that Valkyrie's motif was _cheetah_.

Fuwa barely resisted the urge to drench himself with the rest of his water when Yua slowed down, eventually coming to a stop and stepped off the treadmill. She turned around, refusing to acknowledge his presence and grabbed the nearest towel.

Thin wisps of hair clung to her face, which was now flushed with sweat. She rubbed her face with the towel, then the back of her neck, and Fuwa couldn't help but wonder if a ponytail suited her better than her usual, very inconvenient hairstyle.

Maybe with a casual set of clothing, her inconvenient, let down hair would pair well. Thinking of which, he'd never seen her in anything other than the handful of suits and the black AIMS t-shirt she wore in the gym.

Maybe if he ever took her out for lunch or dinner, he'd get to see her in something _other_ than boring old grey.

The thought crossed his mind so fast, it vanished into thin air as soon as Yua shot a suspicious frown at his blank stare.

_Nevermind_.

**II.**

The second one is more pronounced, and it scares the everloving life out of him.

The bronze evenfall light reflected on the blue tinted window pane, casting a phantom apparition against the walls. The office hours had ended a while ago, and the hallway was empty - serene and reminded Fuwa of a lull in the storm.

A stark contrast to his current mood.

He knocked on Yua's door with a box of pizza on his hand, and could feel the metaphorical smoke coming out of his ears. He had been busy tracking down the whereabouts of Metsuboujinrai and before he knew it, the cafeteria was closed, the vending machine ran out of protein bars and the hallways were silent.

Seeing that he was following up on a promising lead, Fuwa had decided to substitute his lunch for a pizza. What he was unaware of, was that the local pizzeria owner liked to manipulate unsuspecting customers into paying for more than what they'd ordered.

Okay, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration. The old man was just hard of hearing.

A muffled _come in_ came from the other side, and Fuwa pushed the door open to see Yua furiously typing something on her laptop.

Her office was warmly lit by a big window, which was glaringly absent in his - not that he was comparing or anything. The mahogany desk was littered with stacks of progress report, and a few other documents from ZAIA. A monochrome couch was placed across the table, accompanied by a potted plastic plant.

It wasn't the first time he'd been in there, nor was it the first time he'd noticed the lack of life in the room.

He cleared his throat. "I got you lunch."

That garnered her attention. She looked up from the keyboard, a crease etched on her forehead. "It's five in the afternoon."

"Snacks, then."

"What are you up to?"

Fuwa closed the door behind him and made his way to her table, then proceeded to create space for the pizza box. Once he was done transferring the reports to the sofa with one hand, he set down the food and took the liberty to plop down on the very uncomfortable chair across her.

"They gave me a twelve inch pan when I ordered a six."

Yua, who had already gone back to her typing, refused to take her eyes off the screen and raised an eyebrow. "And this concerns me how?"

"Just eat the damn food, Yaiba."

"You can take the leftovers home and have them for dinner, did you know that?"

He did, actually. And the thought _had_ crossed his mind once. But then her decided to share the meal with Yaiba, and forgotten to question it.

Or more like refused to open that door.

Fuwa picked up a slice and made a face at the pepperoni that was sliding down with the string of cheese, and shoved almost half of it in his mouth. Over the remaining pizza that was blocking half of his vision, he noticed Yua wrinkling her nose, though her eyes were occupied elsewhere.

After a minute or two of him silently chewing his food, Yua put down her laptop on a side table that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and peered into the box.

Her eyes were red and puffy from working on a screen for hours and her lips were chewed dry.

Something fluttered in his stomach.

She picked up a slice. "How did you know I was still here?"

"I think the entire facility has noticed how the ZAIA president is working you to death."

Yua's eyes flickered to her laptop, then over to the couch where he'd dumped all the reports, and then back at him. "It's my job."

He watched as she took a bite, and something akin to bliss glazed over her eyes.

Fuwa gulped down the bite he almost choked on.

"Working afterhours? He _is_ paying you for that, right?"

"It doesn't have pineapples on it."

He decided to take the topic change in stride. "I'm not a brute."

One of her eyes narrowed in good humour. "Say that to your Progrise Key."  
  
The finished the rest of their food in silence, both devouring it as though they hadn't had a decent meal in ages. At least his money wasn't entirely wasted.

Though if this was how much Yaiba demolished as a _snack_ , Fuwa had great concerns regarding his wallet for when he'd take her to dinner.

He shot up from his seat, startling both Yua and himself.

She frowned whilst wiping her grease-coated fingers with a tissue. "What's wrong?"

That was a _very_ good question. Unfortunately for both of them, he didn't have an answer.

Over the ragged pounding of his heart, he managed to croak out a _nothing_ and grabbed the empty box, holding on to it like a life support, and got the hell out.

**III.**

Yaiba Yua was the coolest person he'd ever known, and it didn't bruise his ego to admit that anymore.

It had been harder for her to overcome Gai's control due to the fact that she had actually been in denial regarding the entire issue, but when she did, oh boy, she _did_.  
  
They'd always fought in sync, whether it was a battle against a rogue humagear or a common enemy, they'd never failed to make up for each other's shortcomings. It was something born from mutual respect towards the other's skill-set, no matter how much they'd individually deny it.

So, in every battle, Fuwa and Yua had subconsciously drifted towards each other with an unspoken agreement of watching the other's six.

He knew when to duck to avoid getting shot in the head by her, just how she knew when to bend over to provide him leverage for a particularly strenuous kick. He'd predicted her moves quite a handful of times now to gloat, but she'd done the same for him, so there wasn't much to be satisfied about.

Hell, when Yaiba had thrown her Shotriser over her shoulder, Fuwa didn't even need to take his eyes off her ferocious figure to catch it. He could feel Aruto's baffled eyes on him at that act, but his gaze was dead set on Yaiba.

But when she grabbed Gai by the lapel of his oddly hued suit, dragged him up and punched the living daylights out of him, Fuwa found himself startled.

And no matter how trained you are, punching someone hurt. But Yaiba didn't even flinch.

And she really _was_ scraping out every ounce of pride he felt for her, but refused to show, by adding, "consider _this_ my resignation."

Fuwa felt his lips twitch up in an involuntary smirk when she tore off the ZAIA monogram from her suit and threw it next to Gai's head.

Yaiba Yua was a force of nature and Fuwa would love nothing but to treat her to a delicious dinner, preferably at a nice restaurant.

If only he had the money to afford it, because damn if being Hiden's personal lackey paid _at all._

**IV.**

When Jin had called him to inform him about Yua's condition, Fuwa had never wished for Valkyrie's powers more. He wanted to shoot every pedestrian in front of him to clear his path.

_The Ark._ She had been attacked by the _Ark_.

Hailing a cab was an impossible task at that time of the day, so he'd settled on running. Somewhere along the way, Aruto had called him to ask about his whereabouts, and Fuwa ended up screaming _Yaiba is in the hospital_ into his phone.

Jin had sounded grim and remorseful over the phone, and almost apologetic, but Fuwa could barely assess it over the tremor of his heart.

He'd only experienced this kind of turmoil from dread once, and that was when he was attacked by rogue humagears twelve years ago, but that had been a false memory, so _never_.

_Not now. Not when she'd finally gotten herself back._

Now, two days later, as he sat next to an on-the-mend and very uncharacteristically apologetic Yaiba, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd woken up on the right side of his bed.

But she had to go and ruin it by stumbling out, "or at least that's what Ai-chan told me to say."

The pocket therapist chided her for wrecking the plan, but Fuwa wouldn't have it any other way. _This_ was the Yaiba he'd learnt to call a comrade - tactless and dignified at the same time.

_This_ was the Yaiba he'd love to know more about.

They exchanged a few words about the AI, and Fuwa was happily surprised to see how much her views had changed.

When he got up, the invitation to spend a meal with him was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that the timing wasn't right. They'd entered the final stage of the battle - or at least he _hoped_ that the Ark was the last, because he was seriously growing tired of kicking ass and getting ass kicked - and Yaiba was still at the hospital.

Instead, he shook his head fondly and said, "remember, I'm gonna need her back."

**V.**

This time, Fuwa had a plan.

They were gonna die, he was sure of that. And no, that wasn't his grand plan.

He didn't display his concerns in front of others, because really, he'd rather have Aruto and his humagear think of him as a gorilla than a wet cat. But he knew that every enemy they were facing had the capability to turn them to dust. Any battle could be their last.

So, he decided to take a chance.

Yaiba was healing quickly, and what's better than to celebrate her recovery with a nice dinner?

His plan hadn't consisted of the flower bouquet that was currently in his hand, but when his eyes had stumbled across the petite flower shop on the way, he couldn't help himself.

Besides, it was customary to give get-well-soon flowers to those stuck in the hospital, wasn't it?

The flower shop owner had patiently listened to him stumble over his words as his hands moved around in the air as if to materialize a proper description of what he needed. The old woman had only asked one thing, and when he muttered a negative response, she'd disappeared behind the flower pots, waving a very sharp pair of scissors in the air.

_Does she know how you feel?_

When the lady returned with a soft pink bouquet wrapped around three colourful flowers - he could only recognize the sunflower - Fuwa knew something wasn't right.

And as soon as his eyes fell on the tangerine wrapping paper that hung on the display, he knew what was missing.

"That one," he pointed, then looked back to make sure the lady followed his gaze, "can you wrap then up in that one?"

"The orange one?" She huffed. "That's not very romantic, young man."

"It doesn't matter."

So, there he was, walking down the street, thinking of ways to put his thoughts into words. Should he just ask her and be done with it? Or should he make up a speech?

He was never good with big gestures, mainly because he'd never needed them before. Besides, Yaiba didn't seem like the one for orchestra and roses. Or at least the previous Yaiba didn't. But then again, he couldn't really judge her character from that, since it was more Gai than her.

Just when he'd decided to wing it, he came across Yua herself. She still had a bandage wrapped around her forehead, and was carrying a bag, but most importantly, she was _discharged_.

Or maybe she forced them to discharge her, since she was in no condition to be up and about.

After a while, when Yaiba showed him the way to tap into AIMS' communicator and informed him that she'd already located the Ark while waiting for her discharge papers, all thoughts of asking her out flew right out of his head.

He had more important matters to deal with.  
  


**\+ I.**

It was finally over.

An entire year of blood, sweat and tears had led him up to _this_ exact point. His muscles ached from exhaustion, taut with tension and bruises - but he didn't mind, because that meant he needed _sleep_. Years and years of it.

The fight wasn't exactly over, per se. Some Magears were exploding in the background, some still trying to claw their way into survival while the dust took its time to settle.

But the worst of it, the damned Ark, had been destroyed. So Fuwa let himself a minute to breathe, taking cover behind the fallen debris. His left wrist was probably broken, since any slight movement to it forced tears into his eyes, but the rest were cuts and bruises, so he'd survive.

Yaiba manifested next to him, staggering behind the massive slab of concrete - his safe haven for the moment. Her face was pinched and she had a hand splayed over her knee.

She'd been running and flying, mostly running, taking advantage of the boost from her _Rushing Cheetah_ to launch surprise attacks on their enemies. He hadn't noticed when she'd injured herself, but it was definitely sometime between her kicking Gai away from an attacking Magear and launching the simultaneous attack at the Ark with Naki.

"How's your leg?"

Her hair, that was once put in a tight braid, had probably seen better days. Her cheeks were smudged with dirt while she sported a huge cut on her forehead.

She winced. "It's been better. How's your hand?"

Fuwa let out a dry chuckle. "I'm no doctor but even _I_ can tell it's shattered."

Yaiba nodded, when wiped the single bead of swear trailing down her cheek with the dangling, torn bit of her sleeve, smearing some more dirt. She leaned against the slab and closed her eyes for a moment, and they both flinched when a particularly loud explosion went off behind them.

"Well, just a few more left." It was clearly more for herself than him, but Fuwa let himself be encouraged by that.

He straightened up, and when a look of fierce determination came over her, he found the words slipping out with unnatural ease.

"When this is over, I _will_ take you out."

Wait.

_Shit_.

_No_.

That was _not_ how he was supposed to phrase it. Why did he have to go and open his mouth? Why now? Why not when he had flowers in his hand and wasn't covered in something that smelled liked rotten eggs?

Yaiba looked over to him, a confused frown furrowing her brows together - probably at his change of tone and at the sudden hostility. But her expression cleared quickly and she loaded her shotgun.

"I'd like to see _you_ try."  
  



End file.
